


Delicate

by medusaoblongata



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 04:44:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7252561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medusaoblongata/pseuds/medusaoblongata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reaper is sent off to kill someone--a face from the past! This is a lovey-dovey smut piece with like totally consensual Reaper sex! Yaaaay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Recognition

The dossier landed with a plop in front of him, tossed with a dismissive flick of the wrist by the surly Frenchwoman. He grunted, reaching out a hand and snatching it up. 

“More of your scraps?” The snarled question was directed at her retreating figure. 

“You know zis one, -Reaper-.” The answer floated back to him and he huffed, flipping open the file and then taking in a sharp breath. It was not often--not often at all--that Reaper could feel anything besides hatred and emptiness, but the picture within triggered a sudden rush of longing, a sudden jolt of sadness. He remembered carrying her, that woman in the file, from the wreckage of a building bombed by Talon. He remembered the way she had curled up against his chest, her trust in him absolute, and he remembered the look in her amber eyes as she squeezed his hand in the medbay as the sedatives took her under. He remembered sitting by her side long after surgery had finished, watching her sleep. They were some of his last good memories from Blackwatch; some of the last times he had ever felt like a hero. With a snarl, he pushed himself up and stalked off to find transport. He wasn’t a hero anymore. 

\--

It was only a few nights later that he found himself standing inside her bedroom, figure solidifying from the tendrils of shadow he’d been only moments before. For a woman Talon wanted dead, she’d gone to no effort to hide or install anything but the most rudimentary of security systems. He sneered to himself, turning his attention toward the bed, clawed hands flexing in readiness--before recoiling visibly, a noise of surprise escaping the normally implacable mercenary. She was curled up on the mattress, dark hair spilling across her pillow, with the flimsy shirt she wore as a nightgown hiked up along her hips, exposing her to him quite thoroughly. He stepped forward, fingers reaching out, steeling himself to deliver the killing blow--and then she whimpered softly in her sleep, stretching out toward him as if she were reaching for him, a frown stealing across her face. He paused, arguing with himself internally, and then he slipped a hand into his long coat, removing a syringe instead and leaning down to slide the needle into her neck and let the drug render her unconscious. That done, he stooped down and carefully gathered her into his arms, marveling in the way she nestled up against him. Then he was gone, vanishing into the night with his captive tucked against his chest.

\--  
She woke to find herself wrapped in blankets, her head against a pillow, though they weren’t hers and they seemed to be stacked on a bed she didn’t recognize. She sat up, a little too fast for her woozy head the first time, and carefully pulled herself free of the warm cocoon, casting a confused glance around the room. It was barely furnished, the bed being the only significant piece of furniture at all, and she felt a spike of panic run through her before the nausea took hold once more and she sank down against the pillows. 

The next time she woke, she found herself in considerably more control of her faculties, and she managed to climb from the bed, wobbling uncertainly toward what looked like the door. It was only when she paused to lean against the wall and shake off the dizziness that was threatening to swallow her that the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and she turned, letting out a sharp gasp as she came face-to-face with a gleaming white mask. 

“Going somewhere?” The voice that echoed from the headpiece was low and grating, and she trembled as she swept her gaze down the speaker’s body, taking in the massive, black-clad form. She felt abruptly very fragile and very tiny, a feeling that was reinforced as he--it seemed to be male, at least--swept her off of her feet and carried her back to the bed, setting her down with surprising gentleness. 

“Where--where am I?” The question emerged in a meek stammer, and she glanced up into the empty sockets of the mask with all the confidence she didn’t feel. 

“A safe place.” A growl of hollow laughter rang out. “Except for the fact that I’m here.” 

“What-. I. Why did you--I don’t have money, if that’s what you’re after,” she snapped, glaring up at the mask with a sudden surge of anger. “Let me go.”

“No.” The force behind the word nearly flattened her against the bed and the dark figure stepped forward until he was looming over her. “You’re mine now.” 

“I am not!” She pushed forward, trying to knock him off balance, crying out as he simply caught her wrists in his hands and pinned them above her head. 

“Are you afraid?” The question held a sinister edge to it and she nodded, swallowing hard as he released her, hands rising to the mask hiding his face. “Not afraid enough.” With that dark prophecy, he unhooked the skull facade and pulled it away, sweeping his hood from his head with a quick flick of his hand. She took a sharp breath, eyes sliding across his scarred features, that inhumanely pale skin traversed by flickering dark veins, and those dark pits of eyes where nothing human seemed to live any longer. She saw him and then, as he was reaching down to pick the mask back up, she reached out and wrapped her slender fingers around his hand and squeezed. 

“I know you.” The soft words weren’t an accusation, rather a gentle expression of surprised recognition. “You were--you saved me once.” She let her eyes travel along his stricken features again. “You said your name was Gabriel.” 

“-Was-,” he roared, his nose almost touching hers as he tried to cow her into submission. “As you can see, I am nothing but a monster now.” He hissed as she gave him a lopsided smile, shaking her head, her hand squeezing his once more. 

“I don’t believe that. But-,” her eyes widened and she raised her other hand, letting the tips of her fingers touch his cheek. “They said you died. I-I was at the funeral.” 

“Why?” His brooding tone cracked slightly as he sank to his knees in front of her, pale face contorted with internal agony. “Why did you come?” 

“Because it was the only way I could say goodbye,” she whispered, leaning in toward him. “The only way I could apologize for not thanking you.” She let out a gasp as she found herself hauled into his lap, the man yanking his gloves off with his teeth and then sliding his arms around her, fingers tracing along her skin. “Gabriel?” And then his lips collided with hers and she lost track of the world, sinking into the strange coldness of his embrace, the pull of his lips on hers making it seem as if he was drinking in her very soul. 

“Say it again,” he demanded hoarsely, fingers spidering up her back and sliding her shirt over her head, baring her to him. 

“Gabriel,” she murmured, tilting her head back as he kissed a line down her throat and then lifted her up so that she could lay back on the bed as his cool lips circled and then latched onto a nipple, his teeth and tongue drawing soft sobs of pleasure from her. 

“Again,” he snarled, shifting his attention to her other breast and then propping himself up to watch her face as one of his calloused hands slid between her legs, cupping her intimately. 

“Gabri-aaah!” Her head fell back as one long finger slid inside of her, curling and pumping until she was arching her hips against his hand as his thumb ground against her clit tauntingly. A second finger, then a third, and he kept those dark eyes on her, drinking in her expression of ecstasy as he brought her to the edge and over with his hands. He was like a dying man at his last meal, taking her to the peak three more times as he savored her cries and gasps, finally letting her fall back against the bed, exhausted. She gave him a wobbly smile, eyes sliding shut, and then she was asleep--worn from his constant attentions. He sat there, considering her, for a long, long while and then pushed himself to his feet and began to unbuckle the heavy leather gear, letting it fall to a messy pile on the floor. The rest of his body was just as pale and heavily scarred as his face, the dark veins pulsing beneath his skin making him look like he was going to shatter apart at any moment. He held still, as if expecting her to wake and then run from him, but her gentle, sleepy sighs eventually won through and he carefully climbed in beside her, wrapping her into his arms and letting her body warm his. Then, for the first time in a very long time, the creature that called itself Reaper slept.


	2. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't stop being a garbage human!!! Sex! Sex!

She was dreaming of being chased, frantically trying to hide from the dark figure that pursued her through the abandoned city she’d once known, and then she dreamt of rounding a last corner and coming face-to-face with a gleaming skull mask and knowing that she was dead. She woke with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in the bed and panting, soft sounds of distress coming from her lips. She was alone, she realized, though there was a distinct coldness to the sheets beside her that suggested the owner of that mask had been there for some time. She shivered, scooting to the edge of the mattress and levering herself onto her feet, stretching and then wincing as a twinge of soreness flared between her legs. -Ah-, she blushed furiously, remembering the way he’d pleasured her the night before, and she gave a ginger shake of her head as she padded toward the cracked-open doorway she’d not noticed previously. This time there was no furious guardian to stop her and she pushed the door open further, letting out a sound of surprise as she stepped into what could only be described as a truly lavish bathroom. Marble countertops, a shower of all glass with a elegantly designed bench in the center, and a jacuzzi-sized tub--all of which seemed absurd for a man who seemed less than human to own. Still, she wasn’t one to argue with the tantalizing display presented, and she slipped inside the massive shower and set a glorious spray of hot water running down her skin. In here, her nightmare was quickly forgotten, and she found herself humming a cheery tune as she scrubbed and languished in the warmth. 

“How strange to find a little bird singing for me, of all people.” The sudden droll, thundering voice made her stumble with a squeak of fear, feet sliding on the wet tile, and then a strong arm looped around her waist and hauled her upright, saving her from her slippery fate. “Watch yourself.” She twisted, expecting to see that skull mask staring down at her, and instead found herself facing that pale and scarred, but still human, visage. 

“Oh,” she breathed, at a loss for words, a loss that was amplified as she realized that his hard, and very naked, body was pressed intimately against hers. “H-hello, Gabriel.” He rumbled out a laugh, sweeping her sodden hair from her face as he stepped her backward, immersing himself in the scalding spray. 

“I assumed that you’d run,” he growled, setting his lips near her ear. “Imagine my surprise to find you here.” His fingers traced down from her hair, sliding along her spine and then lower, drawing a hoarse moan from her lips. “Though I must admit--,” his thumb slid against that sensitive bundle of nerves and she trembled, fingers digging into his arms. “--I would rather enjoy hunting you.” A sudden flash of nerves darted through her, but it was quickly shoved aside by the way he swept her up over his shoulder, one hand palming her rear as he flicked the water off and carried her from the shower and back to the bedroom. 

“I can walk-,” she chided from her undignified position, drawing another deep sound of amusement from him as he set her down on the bed. “I can--oh,” she trailed off as her eyes slid along his body, taking in his appearance properly now. He was built like a warrior, and even the strange, deathly hue of his skin couldn’t detract from the deadly power in his form. Her eyes slid lower and she realized she was blushing furiously, glancing away from the proud manhood that was standing at attention before her. 

“See something you like?” His taunting question echoed in her ears as he settled on the bed behind her, lips coming to rest at the nape of her neck as his hand stole down between her thighs once more. She opened her mouth to respond and then cried out sharply as his teeth sank into her shoulder, one finger sliding inside of her at the exact same moment. “Sing for me again,” he demanded, trailing stinging kisses up and down her neck as he tortured her with his fingers. Then she found herself hiked up against his chest, the tip of his cock pressed against her entrance, his lips beside her ear. “Say you don’t want this. Say I’m a monster. Say you hate me.” His voice was harsh and raw, almost as if he were begging her to deny him; to validate his self-loathing. 

“Please, Gabriel.” His name was nothing more than a breathy sigh as she tried to rock her hips against his. “I’m yours.” He made a primal sound of rage and frustration and then sheathed himself inside of her in one brutal motion, the sheer size and girth of him bringing tears to her eyes. 

“Mine,” he snarled, burying his face in her hair as one hand rose to clasp her throat, squeezing gently. “Mine.” He didn’t move for a long time, and she felt the heavy brand of him deep inside her when he finally lifted her up and then hilted himself once more. “I wish you could see yourself. Spread open for me, so vulnerable. So delicate. So easily broken.” His harsh words made her shiver with fear and want, the warring emotions making her feel crazed. 

“Please don’t break me,” she gasped, words cut off as his hand tightened and he gave another hard thrust. 

“Never,” he gritted out. “Never.” Then he pulled free of her, the sudden emptiness making her cry out with a sharp pang of sadness, and he turned her in his arms so that their noses were nearly touching, pressing her back on the bed and entering her with more gentleness. His lips settled on hers and her fingers tangled into his hair as he made love to her with astonishing thoroughness and care, holding her close as she shattered against him and then finally losing himself deep inside of her with a strangled roar. “Never,” he repeated, brushing her hair from her face. “You’re the only thing I have left.”


	3. Kink!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay this one's a little BDSM-y, y'know?

She was running again, skidding to a halt and throwing herself around a corner, adrenaline firing in her veins. She wished it were a dream, but this time it was real, every gasping breath, every slap of her bare feet against the floors. She burst through to the outside, briefly aware of the fact that it was raining and that she was dressed only in a shirt and panties, and then she was haring off into the wooded thicket, branches and thorns ripping at her as she stumbled onward. He was chasing her, she knew it, she could -feel- it deep inside of her. She knew he would find her, he would always find her, but she didn’t know why she was running from him. Why her legs had suddenly decided to move and her brain had kicked into a panic. She eventually slid to a halt beside a massive oak, exhausted and soaked to the bone, sinking to the sodden ground as she hiccuped out wave after wave of long sobs. The woods around her were darkening and she realized with a soft cry of fear that she was thoroughly lost. Curling herself into a ball, she rested her head against the trunk of the tree, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to ignore the world around her. 

This was how he found her, the woman shivering in her uneasy sleep, and all of his rage evaporated as he leaned down to gather his wayward charge into his arms and bring her back where she belonged. She nuzzled close against him, fingers folding into his leather coat as he carried her, a little wrinkle appearing on her brow as she grumbled in her sleep. Back, back all the way inside, and he carried her to the bathroom, setting her down against the tub while he turned on the faucets, hot steam billowing up. Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped, unable to meet his eyes while he carefully pulled her ruined clothes from her and lifted her into the water. 

“Why did you run?” His deep voice sounded oddly pained, and he shrugged off his jacket and shirt before settling on the edge of the tub and taking up the bar of soap, gently scrubbing her muddy skin clean. 

“I don’t know,” she murmured miserably, “I didn’t want to--but I did. But as soon as I did, I wanted to be back here with you.” She leaned back into his hands as he rinsed her hair, nails sliding against her scalp. 

“You can’t hide from me,” he rumbled, arms supporting her as she lifted herself from the bath, leaning against him as he wrapped the soft towel about her shoulders. “Don’t run from me again.” He tilted her chin up with one hand, dark eyes on hers. “I need you here. I can’t control myself if you’re gone, little one.” 

“Gab-.” Her words were cut off by a brief brush of his lips against hers. 

“You’ll have to be punished,” he stated, voice unequivocal. “I will have to teach you a lesson. 

“Please-,” she breathed, but he simply shook his head and panic flooded through her once more. He carried her back into the room that they shared, setting her on the bed and then gesturing at her hands.

“Behind your back,” he ordered, and she obeyed, mesmerized by the dark tendrils that gathered around him and then flowed along her skin, binding her wrists together with something that was completely his own essence. His head bowed, teeth and lips settling onto her nipple, teasing one into a hard bud and then the other. Then more of that shadow essence flowed onto her chest, two distinct droplets pinching her nipples and pulling, making her squirm and gasp beneath him. 

“Gabe-,” she sputtered, words cutting off as another tendril darkness flowed around her throat, solidifying into a hard, cold band that pressed heavily against her skin. “What?” He ignored her, fingers brushing along her skin, flickers of black mist painting along her skin before he rolled her over onto her knees unceremoniously, her face pressed against the bed. Her nipples protested, the strange clamps dragging and biting into her skin as she moved, and she whimpered, hips wiggling. Then one of his hands clapped against her rear and she screeched, not expecting the blow. 

“Count.” His voice was rough and demanding, his hand landing another strike as she choked out a ‘one’, each consecutive spank making her tone wobble even more. After a good dozen, he paused, rubbing his hands along her reddened, bruised flesh. “Again,” he snarled, returning to his work while she struggled to keep track of the numbers and where his hand might be. Finally he gave a grunt of satisfaction, standing and sliding his pants down and then setting his hands on her hips and dragging her back to the edge of the bed. He barely gave her a moment before his length was pressing up against her and then he eased just the head of his cock into her, giving a shallow, lazy thrust. 

“Please!” The word came out in a heated gasp as she tried to push herself back onto him, her slit drenched from his punishment, her shame forgotten in a sheer haze of need. 

“Beg better than that, little one,” he sneered, giving another one of those unsatisfying nudges with his hips. 

“Please, Gabriel. Fuck me. Fuck me, I promise I’ll never run again.” Her words must have struck a chord, because he sank himself deeper, eliciting a whine from deep in her throat. “I’m yours, I’ll always be yours--,” she sobbed as he worked himself deeper. “I’ve always been yours.” That did it, and he hilted himself in a deep thrust, leaning over as he began to fuck her mercilessly from behind. 

“You know who owns you, body and soul,” he snarled, hand sliding under her to torture her clamped nipples. “Say it. -Scream- it.” 

“You do!” She yelped as one of the clamps was yanked off, “You, only. You. Gabriel.” The second one was torn from her and she sobbed into the blankets as he pressed her down, length branding her again and again as it drove deep within her. 

“Your body knows its master,” came the dark, gloating voice in her ear. “We’ll have to work on your soul.” She nodded, chin bobbing as he bore down on her, each thrust making his tip kiss that deepest part within her and before long her legs were trembling and she was whispering his name, fingers digging into her palms. “Let go, little one.” She was only too happy to oblige, screaming as she went soaring over the edge and he followed, her hands suddenly freed in the wake of her orgasm as he swept her into his arms and laid her on her side against him. The binding around her throat remained and she raised a finger to touch it curiously. 

“You forgot this,” she mused, voice playful. 

“No,” he corrected, teeth nipping the shell of her ear. “The rest of the world has to know who you belong to, mm?” She found herself blushing crimson, nodding as he wrapped his arms around her. Safe, at last.


End file.
